


all i want for christmas is your prick

by tryslora



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Christmas, Community: daily_deviant, Community: kinky_kristmas, M/M, Romance, Schmoop, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 13:35:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5628478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neville comes home to a Patronus. It whispers <i>come upstairs</i> and he knows that his Christmas gift is waiting for him when he finds Draco in bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all i want for christmas is your prick

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Kinky Kristmas comment fest at Daily Deviant. The prompt was for Draco/Neville and size kink, and "Draco gets what he wants for Christmas, exactly where he wants it." I couldn't possibly resist the chance to write hung!Neville.

The Patronus meets Neville at the door.

The ferret whispers with Draco’s voice _come upstairs_ , then wheels and darts away, leading Neville to the landing before it disappears into a wisp of grey light.

Neville smiles slowly, turns and casts a spell to close the front door of their home, letting it lock behind him. He takes his time removing his cloak, then hanging his workday robes over the back of a chair. He checks his hands, makes sure the dirt of the day is cleansed from his fingers, before he begins the slow climb up the stairs, letting each step fall heavily upon the tread.

“You’re slow.” The call comes from the bedroom, irritable and breathless all at once. “You’d think it wasn’t Christmas and a time for family.”

“I was with family,” Neville points out, his accent a bit thicker than usual, mouth wide as he lets the sound linger on purpose. “Had a good day with Gran, thanks for asking, and Mum almost seemed alert.”

Silence, then quietly, “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” Neville makes it to the top of the stairs, and the door just beyond is cracked open. He moves into the space it gives him, leans against the frame of the door and takes in the sight, a small smile quirking one corner of his lip. Draco lies on the bed, arms wrapped around a pillow, naked arse in the air with a bright red bow atop that. “They aren’t ready for you yet, any more than your Mum’s ready for me. We’ll get there some year, love, just not this one.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting,” Draco grumbles, wiggling his pale bum. “Mum knows something’s up. She sent me off so that I could _go to whoever is waiting for me so impatiently_. She didn’t ask about a _young lady_ this year; perhaps she’s come to terms with the fact that I’m bent as a bloody corkscrew. Either way, we had an unusually swift holiday dinner, then she told me to leave.”

Neville walks over slowly, tugging his jumper off and tossing it into the laundry basket, then throwing the shirt he had on beneath after it. He sinks onto the bed, large hand skating along the length of Draco’s back from shoulder to arse. “So you’ve been waiting since then?”

“I thought about putting your gift under the tree, but the floor is cold and hard, and the bed is far more comfortable.” Draco raises an eyebrow, somehow managing to look imperious despite the fact that he’s head down and arse up while completely starkers. “Aren’t you going to unwrap it?”

Neville laughs softly, a low rumble. He strokes over the curve of Draco’s arse, tracing the outline of it, sliding one finger between his thighs and then drawing it up the crack almost to where the bow sits. “You haven’t left much for me to unwrap, love.”

“ _My_ present is still wrapped.” Draco’s gaze drops to Neville’s crotch.

“Oh, it is?” Neville pulls his hand back, toys with the button on his jeans. “Are you impatient?”

“Yes. That’s never been in doubt.” Draco smirks. “I’m impatient, I’m selfish, and I am currently waiting for you to get your sodding huge prick out and fuck me with it. So shall we get on with that?”

“Romantic,” Neville chuckles.

Draco licks his lips, pupils blown as he stares at the way Neville slowly undoes the zip, pushes his jeans down, pants going with them. Neville’s cock is only half hard, but it’s already large, hanging close to Draco’s mouth. “I want you to fuck my mouth with it,” Draco whispers, and Neville feels the rush of blood.

He feeds it to Draco carefully, unwilling to truly fuck his mouth, not wanting to hurt him. Draco’s lips stretch around him, his tongue pressed flat to the underside of Neville’s prick, soaking him quickly. Draco murmurs, and Neville feels the vibration as he rocks his hips, pushing his cock into Draco’s mouth, sliding back out. He cradles Draco’s head gently, loves the sloppy feel as Draco’s spit coats him.

He’s too much for Draco. He’s always been too much, but Draco loves it, tries to take him in as far as he can. They’ve learned just how hard Neville can go without triggering a gag reflex, and Draco murmurs around him, whispered words _you’re so fucking huge_ and _I love your cock_. Neville loves Draco’s mouth, loves how willing he is to take him.

He loves his arse more.

“I want to unwrap my present now,” Neville murmurs, pulling back as Draco lets his cock slip free with a wet slurp. Draco’s pupils are blown wide, his lips stretched and red.

“I want you to fuck me,” Draco whispers in return. “Balls deep, stretch me on that fat cock of yours. I want to feel every inch of it going in.”

“We can do that.” Neville leans down, kisses him slowly, lingering over the taste of Draco, letting him catch his breath. When he moves again, he summons the small pot of lube—the best, most slippery lubrication the wizarding world has to offer—and takes it with him to the foot of the bed.

He kneels between Draco’s legs and plucks the bow from his arse, revealing his puckered hole, already slick and slightly open. Neville presses one finger against it, waiting for it to give way and let him slide inside. Draco’s prepared, but not enough. It’s never quite enough, not for Neville’s cock.

“Fuck yes.” Draco rocks back against his finger, fucking himself on it, whining. “More, Neville. I want that fat cock of yours inside of me.”

“Sometimes I think you love my prick more than you love me,” Neville says. He liberally coats his hand with lube, switching straight from one finger to three, driving them into Draco, twisting to help him get loose. Draco whines, panting slightly as he pushes back.

“Not. True.” The words come out on a breath, each separate and slow. “Fuck. Yes. Neville. Don’t stop.”

Neville loves this moment, loves the way Draco twists beneath him, begging with every inch of his body. They fit together perfectly, despite Neville’s size. His hands are incongruous on Draco’s hips, large and calloused against pale smooth skin. But Draco takes him, begs for him, needs him. And Neville loves him, loves the sounds that he makes when he comes apart under Neville’s touch.

“Do you want to feel me tonight?” Sometimes Neville takes hours stretching Draco open, making him loose and easy so that Neville slides in without even trying. Tonight Draco is still tight, but Neville wants to take him like this, enter him by slow inches until they can both feel every bit of his length.

“Yes,” Draco whispers, head bowed, words muffled by the pillow. “Fuck, yes, Neville. I want to feel every bit of you. Stretch me out with your cock. Fuck me.” He whimpers when Neville pulls his hand free, crying out again when Neville presses the bulbous head of his cock against his entrance.

Neville has to push to make it past that first resistance, Draco begging the entire time to be filled. Once that first bit slides inside, Draco pants roughly, body rocking slowly as if he can somehow pull Neville inside of him. Neville soothes him, slides his hand over his back, holds onto his hip. “All right then?”

“Yes.” Draco sways under his touch, and Neville slips just a bit more into him. “Merlin, yes, you feel so good. Keep going. Open me up.”

“There we go, then.” Neville rotates his hips, just a small motion that lets him slip a little deeper with every thrust. He takes his time, adding lube when he thinks they need it, pressing kisses along Draco’s back. Whispered words assure Draco that he’s so good at this, so perfect for Neville’s prick, and Draco whimpers in return, begging to be filled.

It always amazes Neville when he bottoms out, when he is completely inside of Draco like this. He has no need to move, already overwhelmed by the tight feel of Draco’s arse around him, by the low sounds Draco makes, whimpering at being so full.

“Your turn.” Neville kisses the words onto the nape of Draco’s neck as he reaches for Draco’s prick. It’s gone soft from the stretch, but Neville knows it won’t take long to revitalize him. His fingers are slick with lube as he strokes, teasing Draco’s bollocks every few tugs, then stroking along his length until the long, thin prick comes to full hardness.

Draco’s beyond words, panting and whining, trying to thrust into the circle of Neville’s fingers and back against his prick. He cries out on every movement, his body shuddering, shivering, held tight on the edge.

“What do you want?” Neville asks, and when Draco whispers _fuck me_ , Neville does.

He sets a quick pace, snapping his hips in time with the tug of his fingers, quick and rough and tight until Draco tenses, body bowed, and keens as he comes, spilling sticky fluid all over Neville’s hands. His arse clenches down and Neville’s hips stutter, vision white for just a moment as he spills inside of Draco.

His thighs are shaky when he withdraws and carefully lies next to Draco on the bed, pulling him close and wrapping the blankets around them both.

“I love your fucking prick,” Draco murmurs, turning his head for a kiss. “But yes, I do love you more. I just happen to appreciate your physical attributes.”

“Are you pleased with your Christmas then?”

“I wore the bow _and_ I got the gift.” Draco smirks, snuggles back against the hard wall of Neville’s chest. “I am fairly certain that I’ve won Christmas.”

Neville could point out that no one _wins_ Christmas, but he’s learned long ago that some topics are just best left alone when it comes to Draco. Instead he presses a kiss to Draco’s shoulder and whispers, “Happy Christmas, love.”

“You have buggered me into exhaustion,” Draco says, voice low and soft with oncoming sleep. “I’m going to napnow, and if you like, when I wake, you may bugger me again.”

“Demanding git.” And Neville loves him for it, loves every bit of him.

And if anyone’s won Christmas it’s both of them, together. Whether their families are ready for them or not, Neville knows that this it; Draco is his family now. And this is the best Christmas present he could have.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me [on tumblr](http://tryslora.tumblr.com).


End file.
